


Behind the Scenes of a Murder

by 3amSoul



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: 19th Century, Belly Kink, Body Image, Eating, F/M, Fat Shaming, Fat fetish, First Meetings, Food Issues, Food Kink, Insecurity, Marcus and Sara, Marcus would look cute chubby tho, Masturbation, Mentioned Anti-Semitism, Mentioned violence, My First Work in This Fandom, New York City, New York in 1894, Rarepair, Sex, Smut, The Alienist - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, chubby / fat Marcus, fat admirer Sara, honestly just something I threw together, mentioned sexism, mentioned sexual abuse, time frame: it´s 1894
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amSoul/pseuds/3amSoul
Summary: Marcus and Lucius Isaacson have just begun working with Dr. Kreizler, John Moore and lovely Sara Howard. Marcus is a great (and very chubby) detective who takes a liking to Sara immediately. Could she like him back despite his appearance? Hopefully she doesn´t discover he actually likes being fat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first work in the Alienist fandom. I loved the show, and coudn´t help but ship Sara and Marcus - who would look awesome chubby :)
> 
> Please read the tags, this is a weight gain fanfic. Comments and constructive criticism welcome, enjoy :)

´´Marcus! Up! Get up already! ´´ Mrs. Isaacson´s merciless soprano rang through the hallway.

´´It´s today, Marcus! Lucius´s been up for half an hour already! ´´ her frantic footsteps seemed to stomp directly on top of Marcus´ still shut eyelids.

´´I´m coming, ma- ´´ the covers all but flew away and Marcus frantically blinked, shivering in nothing but pajamas which felt thinner than cobwebs in the cool morning breeze.

´´Just my luck, having a son who thinks someone like _Dr. Kreizler_ is going to wait on his royal behind to show up! ´´ she lashed out, rummaging through the wardrobe.

´´I´m getting up! Some privacy please, ma? To get dressed? ´´ Mrs. Isaakson squeezed her lips – a sure sign that he would, in fact, regret this if things did not go as planned, and stormed off.

When he was sure the door was safely shut behind her, Marcus sat up and began pulling off his night shirt. Normally, a dreary Monday morning such as this one would be a quite uneventful sequence of events: Lucius wakes up and has his morning coffee in peace. Half an hour later, he nudges Marcus and at a quarter to seven they´re on their way to the police station. However, that April of 1894 brought more than just spring to the Isaacson household.

Several days prior, he and Lucius had received a personal, hand -written (and beautifully signed, Lucius noted) letter from none other than Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, the famous alienist, asking for their help in the form of their expertise as sergeant detectives. As the aforementioned expertise was strategically being overlooked at the New York Police Department (´´Who knows why, ma… ´´ Marcus lamely tried to smooth over the issue more than once, ´´ They don´t like that we read journals and get modern methods from there… No, I promise it´s not the Jewish name, don´t bother yourself with it! ´´), they´d jumped at the opportunity. Dr. Kreizler, unconventional, unbiased and – most importantly – well off, was their golden ticket.

Rummaging through the wardrobe in an attempt to find something suitable to wear, Marcus tried to imagine having a place of his own – no more sharing a room with Lucius and his deafening snoring or ma´s cat startling him half to death every night without fail (´´Possessed, that thing! ´´ Lucius would wag his finger at the animal). For the first time Marcus allowed himself to hope that he could soon afford to move away. The money from the police department was not bad, but it was far from enough. Marcus spent most of it on the family, and a little each month on his own pleasures. Pleasures which, in his case, mostly included honey cake and macaroons. Having donned a crisp white shirt and finished buttoning his waistcoat, Marcus pulled out a pair of dark blue tweed trousers. _The comfortable ones_ , he thought to himself. Lately, his occasional little treats had become more frequent and less little, and it showed. The beige slacks from a couple of months ago were ancient history, not even coming close to closing around his belly. The dark blue ones, however, were a safe bet. Hastily, he pulled them on and made his way to the door, his brother hot on his heels.

 

* * *

 

´´Gentlemen, ´´ announced Dr. Kreizler, ´´ This is my friend and colleague, John Moore. ´´

The two impeccably dressed men offered firm handshakes as Marcus recited hastily: ´´ I am detective sergeant Marcus Isaacson and this is my brother Lucius. ´´

´´ _Detective sergeant_ Lucius Isaakson. ´´ came the correction. Dr. Kreizler explained his partnership with their superior, commissioner Roosevelt and instructed that the bodies of the two murdered children were to be exhumed and reexamined. The brothers nodded in unison, noting everything down carefully.

´´May I ask how long we have the benefits of your expertise? ´´ said Kreizler pleasantly. There was no smile on his face, but his eyes gave off a warm look.

´´As long as you like, Sir. ´´ reassured Marcus. ´´ I doubt my brother and I will be missed at the police department. ´´ he added with a small smile. The explanation seemed to amuse Kreizler somewhat. Determined to impress, Marcus repeated the file he´d practically learned by heart. The brothers were instructed to pay close attention to the injuries on the boy´s body and to keep the results strictly confidential.

Gingerly, the doctor swung away the covers to reveal the remains of two small children. Lucius instantly adjusted his glasses and craned his neck to get a better look. Marcus, on the other hand, glanced at the frail bones, but remained stoic. Lucius was details, Marcus was conclusions, it had always been this way. Speaking of conclusions, Marcus warned: ´´If you´re looking for similarities, there´s only so much we can tell about a body in this state. ´´

´´Anything that may connect the Zweig twins to the Santorelli boy. ´´ muttered Kreizler disdainfully. ´´I have been assured that you gentlemen would be the optimal candidates for the case. ´´

´´We´ll do our best, doctor. ´´ said Lucius, sounding more confident than he actually was.


	2. Chapter 2

There were not many things that could truly make Marcus and Lucius Isaacson uncomfortable. Take the last 48 hours, for example; After having dealt with anti-Semitic jabs at the police department all week, they were sent to meet an alienist who wasted no time in presenting them with two freshly dug up corpses of children. Instead of lunch, they´d paid a visit to a knife shop while hoisting a pig´s severed head along, so they could precisely determine the murder weapon. Neither twin blinked an eye at this, despite not having time to catch a break all day and arriving home at night reeking of formaldehyde. Tonight however, they were both feeling more out of place than ever before.

Dr. Kreizler had decided to celebrate the beginning of what he called ´´a fruitful partnership´´ - more like a motley crew of the only people foolish enough to take on this investigation, Marcus gingerly thought to himself. At a quarter to eight, the brothers made their way through the foyer of the most lavishly decorated establishment (a simple ´´hotel´´ did not do it justice) they´d ever set foot in. Copious amounts of gold leaf decorating the pristine white walls reflected the cool glitter of countless enormous candelabras. Lucius pointedly squinted, feigning blindness. Marcus chuckled at him humorlessly. Walking into the enormous place awash with the perfect notes of the string quartet was akin to a nightmare. The minute the door swung open, Marcus´ mind began to swarm. _Too tall. Too big. Too chubby – fix that belt! Your fat is hanging over it! Too poor – don´t belong here! Stop staring at your feet!_ He hastily stuck his sweaty hands in his pockets to stop them from fidgeting and strode onwards, expertly dodging the hems of ladies´ evening gowns.

After what seemed like an eternity, they entered a private dining room roughly the size of their own house. Marcus glanced at Lucius, who was obviously choking back a gasp by biting his lips.

´´Gentlement! Good of you to join us! ´´ Dr. Kreizler greeted cheerfully. ´´ You remember John Moore, my friend and associate? ´´

´´Of course! A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Moore! ´´ Marcus grinned. He was beginning to feel more at ease. That was, until -

´´And this is Sara Howard. She works for commissioner Roosevelt. ´´

Marcus had never been hit by a train, that much was clear. But if he had, he was certain he would have kept more grace and composure about him than he did at that moment, faced with a large, inquisitive pair of deep blue eyes. Sara Howard offered a hand and Marcus almost hesitated to take it. Every part of her carefully structured appearance looked delicate, thoughfirm at the same time. Her golden hair was in weaved into a smooth stylish bun, decorated by a large glittering hair comb. The elaborate, dark green dress presented a perfect contract to her alabaster skin. When she approached, he inhaled the scent of her rose – based perfume. It rendered him speechless for a few moments before he managed an awkward introduction.

´´D- Detective Markus… That is to say, detective _sergeant_ Isaacson, and… And my brother… ´´

´´Detective sergeant Lucius Isaacson, pleased to meet you. ´´ approached Lucius, providing a much needed escape route.

The company took their seats around the table as half a dozen impeccably dressed servers brought in the appetizers. Marcus had already resolved to eat half of the amount he´d normally have. The last thing he wanted was to provide his colleagues with evidence as to why his clothes were always verging on being too tight.

´´I… I don´t think the wine is kosher. ´´ muttered Lucius from his side. Marcus was about to ignore the remark, but noticed Miss Howard offer an amused smile, which he returned. Dr. Kreizler, on the other hand, stood up and announced: ´´Let me begin the purpose of bringing you here tonight. ´´

 

* * *

 

 

Despite the difficult conversation during dinner, which centered around a deranged murderer, everyone seemed to be in far better spirits upon exiting the hotel. The determination, at least, was there. Marcus, for one, felt like they´d gotten somewhere in their agreement with Dr. Kreizler. The job was going to be perilous, there was no doubt about that. If they were successful, however, the consequences for their careers would be immeasurable. He mulled this over with an absent-minded smile while watching Sara and Lucius chat animatedly.

´´Forensic science married with human psychology! One might easily imagine the ramifications if we´re successful. ´´ chattered Lucius.

´´ I rather like it. ´´ replied Sara, sounding genuinely interested.

Marcus had somewhat gotten over his initial inability to form coherent sentences in her presence, which was aided by the fact that she could easily follow topics in his field of expertise. Moreover, she did not find these outrageous like most of his colleagues, which made him feel just a little warm inside.

´´May I offer you a ride? ´´ asked Kreizler.

´´No, thank you, Sir, I´m about to head to town. ´´ answered Lucius.

He´d invited Marcus to join him at a Socialists´ meeting where he´d spotted a girl earlier, but the latter had imagined the evening rather differently. He would bid everyone good night, head home and eat ungodly amounts of cake and sweets he´d been keeping in the pantry, while looking out the window and thinking of Sara. At first, he´d feel his belly get comfortably and warmly (Marcus had considerably held back during dinner, leaving him on the verge of feeling hungry again), followed by a slight discomfort and tightness as he continued to eat past the point of satiation. In most people, this would cause drowsiness and they would leave the half-eaten rich treat on the kitchen counter and drag their feet to bed to sleep it off. With Marcus, though, the effect was quite different. His full belly, rolls still incredibly soft, would begin to get heavy and it´s weight would settle directly on top of his groin. With every sweet bite, the warm weight would brush up against his member more and more intensely, until he was unable to take it any longer. He´d reach down and wrap a still sticky hand around his cock, sometimes still covered in pink or white sugary frosting and begin to get himself off. As he increased the intensity, the rhythm more desperate for release with every pulse, he´d continued to shove cake past his plump lips. Within moments, he´s panting desperately, his cock leaking from teasing and stimulation. He can feel the thick heavy roll of his lower belly jiggling with the feverish pumps of his right hand. The built-up shame over watching his own  fat, exposed middle wobble and already breaking a sweat even from this momentary exertion, Marcus gives his last ounces of strength and cums into his hand and underpants. Moments pass and stretch endlessly as he lays there, covered in sweat, sugar and himself, heaving and exposed and overfed, feeling disgusting yet never more sexual.

His eyes fell on the back of Sara´s perfectly coiffed blond head. What would she say if she ever saw him like that? Would she laugh? Call him disgusting? Poke his fat for emphasis like the kids did in school? Would she –

´´No. ´´ came Sara´s voice, plunging him back to reality.

´´I´m-I´m sorry? ´´ stammered Marcus, feeling as though his unspeakable thoughts were written on his face.  

´´Oh I was just informing Dr. Kreizler that I´d rather walk home tonight. To clear my head, you see. ´´ she explained.

´´ Miss Howard, I must protest… It is late, and not at all safe for a young woman to be walking home alone. ´´

´´I´ll be alright Dr. Kreizler, really - ´´

´´I-I could walk you home. ´´ Marcus piped up.

´´I really wouldn´t want to be a bother, Mr. Isaacson… ´´

´´No, please! It´s no bother at all. After all we live in the same direction. ´´ Marcus smiled, ignoring a glare from Lucius which was undoubtedly supposed to remind him that they, in fact, lived on the opposite sides of town.

´´Oh well, if you insist. Thank you. ´´

They all said goodbye and went their separate ways. John grudgingly left to sulk at Dr. Kreizler, who took the carriage home. Lucius went to find his girl for the night and Marcus and Sara slowly began to make their way downtown, towards her home.

For some time, they strolled alongside each other, making small talk and enjoying the night air scented by blooming trees in May.

´´ I´m very glad to have met you Mr. Isaacson. ´´ remarked Sara.

´´Please, call me Marcus. ´´ he replied, suddenly having a hard time suppressing a grin. ´´I take it you appreciated the methods we presented to you tonight? ´´

´´Well, yes, that is one reason. For the couple of hours that I´ve known you now, I have come to believe you and your brother to be absolutely brilliant. The techniques you described, the confidence you have in your research… I daresay we need more people like you at the department. ´´

Marcus felt his face heat up. ´´And what is the other reason? ´´

´´The fact that you and your brother seemed to be the only people who felt more uncomfortable than I did in that stuffy, gold – plated music box of a hotel. ´´

Marcus turned to look at her, taken aback. ´´Hah… Well, um... It wasn´t that... I mean… ´´

Sara cast him a sideways glance and smirked. The grimace was at odds with her usual elegant, stoic demeanor.

´´You were fidgeting under the table the whole night. And, you were nervous when you met me, judging by your stutter. In fact, the only time you seemed at ease was when you talked about the investigation – with good reason, of course, you did great work. ´´

Marcus opened his mouth to protest, but promptly shut it.

´´Also, you barely ate throughout the night. Judging by your size, it is simply not possible that you eat like that on a regular basis. ´´ she finished in a voice as nonchalant as if she were talking about the weather.

It took Marcus a few moments to stop reeling. ´´I… Truly don´t believe I´ve ever heard so many compliments and insults stuffed together in the same sentence. ´´

´´Oh… I- I apologize. They were not meant as insults, believe me. ´´ she averted her gaze.

´´How, then? ´´

´´Well, I just… You know, at my job, I have to pretend very often. I have to keep my observations to myself and nod my head. Even John and Dr. Kreizler… They´re good, open-minded people, but they still expect a certain type of behavior from a lady, even an employed one. ´´ she paused and he gave an encouraging nod. ´´ But you and Lucius… You´re different. The fact that you are handsome and brilliant just makes all those stuck-ups at the station dislike you more than they already do for not being WASPS and coming from an immigrant family, while being better at their job than they are. And me… A woman! Just imagine. ´´ She chuckled. ´´So, I guess… I hoped that people like us… The underdogs, if you will… Can speak freely amongst ourselves. Unlike them, we´re used to facing the truth, I think. ´´

´´That… Might have been the most intelligent thing I have ever heard anyone say. ´´ replied Marcus thoughtfully. ´´And some of those truths are unpleasant. For example, that ridiculous hair comb you´ve got on. It´s as big as those hotel candelabras! ´´ he added with a wink.

´´Touché… It is ridiculous, but it was a gift from John, I truly wanted him to think I like it. ´´ she shrugged grinning. Marcus ignored the pang of discomfort at the thought of her receiving gifts from Mr. Moore.

´´So, a question… ´´

´´Is this about me calling you and your brother handsome earlier? ´´

Marcus´ surprised laugh ricocheted around the neighborhood. ´´ Yes. Yes, it is. ´´ Sara did not reply immediately, thinking it over. She would not deny it. Marcus, she noted, used a specific type of smirk when talking about something he truly liked – full lips pressed together, eyes wide, just short of a grin. ´´… You know, considering that minutes ago, you were calling me fat. ´´ he pressed, not meetimg her gaze.

´´I… Did not realize the two were mutually exclusive. ´´ Sara´s tone meant the end of this conversation so he let it go.

´´How did you come to be a detective? ´´ she inquired.

It was a long strange story which stretched a few blocks, and kept Sara´s attention all the way through. Marcus gestured animatedly, exaggerating every so often to make her laugh, all the while keeping that amused little smirk on his lips. Sara realized it kept her on her toes – made her feel like he knew something she didn´t. By the time they reached her house, Sara´s feet were aching and Marcus´ previously neatly gelled hair was in slight disarray, turning the sleek waves into curls struggling to come through.

´´I´m sorry if it was a longer walk then you thought. I walk it all the time, one doesn´t notice the distance anymore. ´´ She offered.

´´I really enjoyed it, Miss Ho – I mean, Sara. You know, I never thought I´d spend so much time talking about myself. You hardly said anything. ´´

´´It was a fascinating story, ´´ she reassured him.

´´Well, maybe… ´´ he began but paused, biting his lip. He´d had fun. He felt somehow lighter after having someone listen. There was also a challenge there, not to lose her attention, she was sharp witted, after all. And candid – perhaps too candid, which intrigued him. He found himself wishing the walk had been longer. But here they were, standing in front of the large house, Sara looking at him expectantly. He wanted to ask, but hesitated. What if she felt nothing out of the ordinary? One could go wrong with women in all sorts of ways.

´´Yes? ´´

´´What I mean is… Whenever you need someone to… Accompany you home, it would be my pleasure. ´´

A grin spread over Sara´s face before she replied, ´´ It is a relief to know you don´t mind having to walk an hour and a half back home. ´´

Marcus let out a laugh and nodded, face beginning to heat up. ´´Yes, I may have… Glossed over that. ´´ It shouldn’t have been surprising, really, that she would leave him feeling embarrassed, yet entirely elated.

´´Good night, Marcus. I will see you soon. ´´ Said Sara, turning to leave.

Instead of a reply, Marcus offered her a wink and a signature smirk. Shaking her head, Sara hopped up the front steps as quickly as her dress allowed. They had just met, after all, and letting out a giggle in his presence was not an option.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, guys! I think this was my favorite one to write so far :) Comments welcome! Enjoy!

Laszlo Kreizler was pacing through the sitting room nervously. The space was dark, despite the cold, gray light seeping through the curtains. In the corner, Sara Howard busied herself with attempting to fix a jutting nail of a wooden headboard. Lucius Isaacson was absent-mindedly flipping through a book, paying no attention to its contents. Marcus Isaacson stared at a terrarium containing a small salamander. Nobody was looking at the limp, sweaty body of John Moore lying unconscious on the couch.

Dr. Kreizler abruptly halted and cast a furious glance towards Sara. ´´He was found in an alley! Missing his trousers! ´´ he hissed as if stating the mere facts was more offensive than any curse word he could think of. Marcus smiled involuntarily. ´´It can happen to the best of us, Dr. Kreizler. ´´

´´To the best of…! Mr. Isaacson, he´ll be lucky if he´s not accused as the murderer of those poor children! ´´

The discussion was interrupted by a weak stirring. Moore was awake. ´´How… How did I get here? ´´

´´Young Steve found you in the back of an alley… Near the brothel. ´´ stated Kreizler curtly. ´´What did you do last night? ´´

John looked about. Lucius drew the curtains which enveloped the room in darkness and Marcus carried in a projector. ´´What is all this? ´´

´´This is going to be our gathering point throughout the investigation. Now. Tell me about last night. ´´

´´Honestly… I remember very little… I recall running into some children working in that… Wretched brothel. Visited by wealthy clientele. I interrogated them about the murders. I think I was drugged and thrown out. ´´

´´And beaten up, it seems. The rich will always choose dead children over social scandal. ´´ stated Lucius plainly. Marcus saw Sara nod to herself silently. Her face seemed to progressively drain of color.

After some further back and forth, he and Kreizler retired to a back room, after which the doctor later emerged looking much calmer, and stating that he´d sent Moore home to rest. ´´Meanwhile, ´´ he addressed the brothers and Sara, ´´we are going to take another look at those finger marks left at the crime scene. ´´

Marcus obediently switched on the projector and the brothers began their analysis. Lucius and Dr. Kreizler both noticed a distinctive break in the finger mark pattern – an indication of a scar. ´´According to my brother, we must compare the finger marks from all of the crime scenes. ´´ explained Lucius. ´´This will tell us whether it is only one man, you see. ´´ Dr. Kreizler nodded at Marcus. Countless hours seemed to have passed by when they concluded their research for the day. Sara asked to speak to Dr. Kreizler in private. They walked away into the spare room, leaving the brothers to gather their belongings and head home. Lucius yawned as he began taking the projector apart.

´´What is wrong with you? ´´ spat Marcus.

´´What?! ´´

´´What?! One of our own is found in an alley behind the brothel connected to all these murders, the police couldn´t care less, in fact they´re working on not finding the one responsible, and – and you´re over here yawning, ready to call it a night? ´´

´´Ay Gewalt, Marcus! ´´ he exclaimed in Yiddish. ´´I trust Moore! What do you want to do about all this tonight? Go to that brothel yourself? ´´

Marcus huffed and marched straight towards the spare room.

´´Have you lost your mind? ´´

´´Shhhhhh! ´´ he waved off pressing an ear to the heavy wooden door which luckily turned out to be very sound conducive.

´´You… Are insane. I´m going home. ´´ with that, Lucius grabbed his hat and walked away, slamming the door.

Marcus sighed and kept listening.

´´… I know what he says Dr. Kreizler but believe me, I know John… He´s not as strong as he´d like you to think… ´´ said Sara´s voice. So now it was John, not Mr. Moore, Marcus thought bitterly.

´´ Miss Howard…. To remind you that we´re quite alone in this investigation, and moreover…. ´´

Kreizler´s accent was much harder to discern through the door, but there was no question that this was a heated discussion. From what he could gather, they spoke for several minutes longer about the events that occurred and helping commissioner Roosevelt. They seemed to have realized that they both had Moore´s best interests in mind and the quarrel wound down. ´´Please… Take care of him for me. He sometimes neglects himself you see. ´´ Sara sounded very clear, which was Marcus´ cue to jump away from the door. When it swung open, she stared at him in surprise.

´´Oh… You´d stayed, Mr. Isaacson. I thought I´d hear the door. ´´

´´That was my brother. I apologize if it was impolite of me. ´´

Dr. Kreizler appeard in the doorframe and smiled lightly. ´´Not at all. But, if you will excuse me, this was beyond a hard day. I shall need some time to… ´´ he let out a long sigh, and Marcus realized he´d suddenly appeared years older than this morning. ´´Convalesce. I must wish you good night now. they simultaneously picked up their coats and offered their greetings.

Marcus opened the door for Sara who quickly stepped through to inhale the fresh evening air for the first time that day. She began lighting a cigarette but could not – her hands trembled.

´´Here, let me. ´´ he said taking the matches from her. ´´I should walk you home again. You don´t seem well. ´´

´´I´m fine´´ she let out a long wisp of smoke, her eyes slightly glassy. ´´I´ll get a carriage home. ´´

´´You shouldn´t be alone. We could go to a bar? Just one drink. I think we both need it after a day like this. ´´

She gave him an unreadable look for several long seconds before slowly nodding.

´´I know a place. It´s one street away. ´´

Unlike the last time, they walked in complete silence. Marcus realized he´d never noticed how small Sara was until now, as she walked with her head hung. Her corseted dress engulfed her narrow shoulders that seemed to carry the weight of the world on them. He wished she´d put her arm around his, like some ladies did, but he´d never seen her do that with anyone.

_The Slide_ was a small bar with walls made of red brick. When they entered, it was still fairly empty and Sara picked a table in the corner. Marcus was about to offer her some wine but she ordered them both two glasses of whiskey and plain water.

´´My late father drank whiskey, ´´ she said. ´´I learned to like it from him. ´´

They spoke about families until their drinks came. As he was about to taste his drink, Marcus´ stomach rumbled loudly.

´´You should eat something. ´´ Sara raised her eyebrows. ´´We´ve been there all day. ´´

They ordered two meals and Sara lit another cigarette.

Marcus shifter nervously before speaking up. ´´How are you feeling? ´´

´´I´m horribly worried about John. He was mad at Dr. Kreizler the other day, and he does reckless things when he loses his temper. ´´

´´Why was he mad? ´´

´´Who would know that? They´re very close that´s why they argue. ´´ she sighed, taking a sip of her whiskey.

´´You and John are close too, are you not? ´´ he began tentatively.

´´We are, ´´ she offered a small smile. ´´We´ve known each other since we were children. We know each other extremely well. ´´

´´You love each other you mean? ´´

´´Yes. ´´

´´Why haven´t you married then? ´´

She let out a surprised laugh. ´´ No, it´s nothing like that. I love him as a brother. ´´

´´I find that hard to believe. ´´

´´Then don´t. ´´

´´You don´t trust me, Sara? These are the people I work with, I want to know the truth about them. ´´

´´I understand, but it is not mine to tell. We are close. I accept him, such as he is, and he accepts me the way I am. Not everyone does, you know. ´´

Marcus let out a sardonic laugh. ´´Imagine that… Two rich, young, beautiful people accepting each other the way they are! What a surprise. ´´

Sara sat there for a few moments looking at him unblinkingly, with an expression between being about to laugh and yell at him.

´´I am a twenty – five year old unmarried woman with a job in a police department filled with men. He encourages that. Other men don´t. ´´

´´I do. ´´ he pouted inciting a laugh from her. She nodded slowly.

´´And what about him? ´´

Sara shook her head. ´´You wouldn´t understand. ´´

Marcus moved up and grabbed her by the hand. His large blue eyes met her startled gaze.

´´I won´t tell. Not even Lucius. I swear it…. Another round of whiskeys please! ´´

They downed their drinks. Sara ashed her cigarette and looked away. ´´ When I was fifteen, and John was twenty, he kissed me. Later, he came to me crying and saying he loved me, but could not be with me because he was in love with someone else. ´´

´´Oh… What was her name? ´´

Sara smiled devilishly. ´´It was Thomas. ´´

Marcus´ eyes went wide. ´´Oh… OH! ´´

´´Marcus! ´´ she hissed grabbing his hand. He squeezed back. It made the sensitive moment even more so. ´´You cannot tell anyone. You gave me your word! This investigation is about a murderer who sexually abuses boys. If this information got out… ´´

´´Sara, ´´ he interjected. ´´No one will ever know. I promise. Besides, I´m not bigoted. ´´ she looked relieved.

´´ Did he break your heart? ´´

´´No, not at all. I told you he´s like my brother. ´´

´´What ever happened to Thomas? ´´

Sara grinned. ´´Well, Thomas is not around anymore. But Laszlo Kreizler is. ´´

Marcus all but jumped. ´´Oh my -! Are you-? Really?”

´´Again! You cannot tell anyone. ´´

´´I won´t, but… ´´ he slumped in his seat. ´´ Wow. ´´

Luckily the awkward conversation was interrupted by the waiter bringing their meals out. They both ordered mince pies, mashed potatoes and desert. Marcus felt much more at ease when food began filling his belly. Sara ate a little of her mashed potatoes, but seemed much more interested in whiskey.

´´So, now that I´ve told you all this, you´ve got to share a story you´ve never told with me. It´s only fair! ´´

Marcus smirked in his signature way, raising his eyebrows and twisting his full lips. ´´Hmm… What if I can´t think of any secret I might tell you? ´´ he replied, glad he wasn´t more drunk. ´´ Today, when John was unconscious, you said that ending up behind a brothel can, and I quote ´´happen to the best of us´´. Does that come from personal experience? ´´

Marcus laughed between bites. His large blue eyes focused on her and he rested his chin on his palm. ´´ … And this is why women should never be detectives! Some things are best kept hidden. ´´ he winked.

The avalanche of protests, questions and urgings that followed lasted for almost 10 minutes, him laughing it off and blushing the entire time. Finally, he sighed, still grinning at her and ordered another round. He´d already polished off his plate and desert, so he didn´t think it could hurt. Sara´s meal remained almost untouched.

´´When Lucius and I were eighteen, he decided it was time for us to… Well, lose our innocence, as it were. However, good Jewish boys don´t do that before marriage, so we snuck out one night and went to a brothel. ´´ Sara almost chocked on her whiskey.

´´You´re being serious? ´´

´´Yes… ´´ he said a little surprised at her naivety. Most boys in New York would visit a brothel before the age of sixteen. ´´So we go there. We didn´t have much money, but we got two decent girls. Mine was a red head. ´´

´´Oh my… And, did you…? ´´ Sara´s eyes were wide. Marcus couldn’t suppress a smile at her astonishment.

´´Yes. She takes me up to the room, and at this point, my hands are shaking, I´m sweating buckets and I´m pretty sure I lost control of my bladder a little, I was all nerves! ´´ he waited for almost a minute for Sara´s uncontrollable laughter to die down. She finally caught her breath, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

´´If I may continue? ´´ he teased, ´´ So, she locks the door and I´m just standing there petrified, and she begins to undress me, unbuttons my shirt, slides down my pants… ´´ he spoke slowly watching Sara´s face flush. ´´ And she reaches out to me, I thought she was about to touch me, but - ´´ he paused, wondering if telling this story was a good idea.

´´What happened? ´´

´´Well… She slapped me as hard as she could across the belly and said: _Aren’t you a fat one?_ I wanted to disappear right then and there. ´´

Sara frowned deeply. ´´That… That´s horrible… I´m sorry. I thought it would be a funny story, otherwise I wouldn’t have - ´´

´´It´s ok. ´´ said Marcus, not meeting her gaze. ´´As I said, it happens to the best of us. ´´

´´What happened afterwards? I hope you told her off and got out of there? ´´

He looked up at her, and Sara suddenly realized how drunk both of them were. The world outside of this conversation did not exist, and the only thing that existed were Marcus´ glassy blue eyes, his perfectly shaped lips and dark curls. His face was almost expressionless as if he were trying to decide how to continue.

´´No… I stayed. She told me to sit down and climbed on top of me. She said she was afraid I´d crush her the other way around. We began to… Well, as it usually goes, you know, ´´ Sara didn´t, but nodded nevertheless, ´´ And at some point, she got tired from doing all the work. She grabbed my sides, well – fat rolls, and said: _You must´ve eaten a lot tonight, I can´t reach your_ – well you know – _from all this lard_. ´´ He trailed off and shifted in his seat – he was painfully aroused at this point, even though his cheeks were burning and he was unable to meet Sara´s gaze. ´´And – and she was right, too… I was all sweaty from just lying there… ´´ Sara gaped. It was at this point she realized that she would have to touch that belly. Somehow. She had to know how it felt. ´´Of course that was then… Now I´m… Well… ´´

´´Yes? ´´ she encouraged gently.

´´Thirty pounds heavier. ´´ he swallowed thickly. ´´ And I have no idea why I just told you all this and ruined the mood. ´´

Marcus was nursing his glass when Sara peeled his fingers off of it and took his hand.

´´Well… What an utter bitch she is! ´´ she said startling him into a surprised laugh. ´´That was horrible of her. Maybe that´ll teach you to wait for a girl who likes you and accepts you next time. ´´

His eyes narrowed. ´´I… Have never thought of it that way. ´´

´´You men never do. ´´ she smiled gently. ´´Marcus… I am drunk and very tired. Would you like the rest of my food? I couldn´t possibly finish it. ´´

He eyed her incredulously for a moment. Offering him food after this story almost sounded like a provocation.

´´Sure. ´´ he made his way through the mince pie and mashed potatoes quickly, wondering if she thought this was a lot of food for him, because it certainly wasn´t. The egg custard was much richer and heavier than the lemon tart he had ordered. He would have to find the recipe. Sara watched him eat, her eyes already half-mast. After he was finished, Marcus went to settle the bill leaving her to contemplate the day. It had been a strange one. He returned with their coats, and Sara learned that standing up quickly after several whiskeys was a very risky operation – but it gave her an idea.

Having exited the door, she focused on the third step descending from the pub. _This is going to be the one._ Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, she reached that third step and pretended to lose balance. Marcus momentarily appeared at her side to catch her, and Sara took his arm with her right hand and rested her left directly on top of his belly – to steady herself, of course.

´´I´m so sorry… I´ve had too much to drink. ´´

They stayed like that for a few moments, as if unsure how to proceed. He held her, and – perhaps she was imagining that his breath quickened. Her hand felt small against the large, soft expanse of his belly, and she found herself wishing she could explore further.

´´Please flag down a carriage, would you? ´´

He obediently let go and whistled at a nearby driver.

´´I hope you enjoyed tonight, despite… Anyway, thank you for having trust in me. ´´ he smiled.

´´Likewise. Sleep well, Marcus. See you on Monday at the department. ´´

He took her hand and kissed it gently, before closing the carriage door. He stood quite still for some time, waiting for it to turn out of sight.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don´t mind the change of perspective, I´m just experimenting with some styles :)

**_Excerpt from Sara Howard´s Journal, May 18th 1894_ **

Dear Diary,

There is something I find very strange, amidst these horrible circumstances we find ourselves in. This occurred to me the other day, while passing by a church in Greenwich Village on a Sunday. The congregation was exiting, the mass just having finished, in their best Sunday clothes, young and old alike. Watching the families, all in high spirits, I suddenly realized they were there trying to be good people. I try to be a good person myself. But we all seem to be wasting our attention on trifles, unimportant details, like church sermons, or restraining passions, when there is a completely different world at hand, a mirror image of ours. In this other world, nothing matters, but the rabid fulfillment of urges.

I had always been aware of this darkness, but last night was the first time I set foot in it. The telephone rang just before midnight. John was calling, utterly flustered and I suspect drunk, yelling into the receiver about a new body found on top of the city water tank. Dear Diary, my blood ran cold. He came in a carriage with Dr. Kreizler, and we rushed to the scene. We were committing a crime too, John said. Commissioner Roosevelt had called and said we ought to investigate before the police had the time to hush it all up, and that he´d delay the dispatcher call for precisely one hour. I remember thinking it would never suffice. Dr. Kreizler was beyond furious. How many boys will have to die, he said, before we find this monster. I held my tongue. He is not a man to be argued with.

We left Steve, Kreizler´s servant boy to keep watch for the police and newspaper reporters as we climbed the scaffolding. It was an ominous sight. The metal frame of the water tank towers over our city. There were no stars and no moon visible, and our lanterns served more to blind us than to illuminate the way.

As we approached, we noticed that the Isaacson twins were already there. Marcus was standing behind a camera, hopelessly trying to capture an image of the fingermarks despite the darkness. Kreizler kept insisting he try over and over again, and John kept warning against it, for fear that the phosphorous flash might attract attention. In the midst of this chaos, Lucius, with no regard to anyone else, it seemed, turned over the body. Time stopped when I looked upon it. I say it, not he because this was not a little boy anymore. This was a reflection of some monster´s mangled soul. No eyes, just bloody sockets. Torso torn in two. I tried to step back, but Marcus grabbed my arm. _Mind where you step, the blood is everywhere! Remember, we were never here._ His eyes turn cold when he is working. Strong and impervious, he expertly handled the evidence and body parts. The sensitive, witty boy who made me laugh just days ago was replaced by a tall man in a dark uniform and icy eyes. Sometimes I think nothing scares him, not the way it scares me. It was as though I was talking to someone else, a Marcus from the dark mirror world, perhaps. I thought I was going to faint.

Looking about, an idea came to me. The murderer is attracted to heights, and kills near water. I ran over and told Dr. Kreizler so. He seemed almost ecstatic at that. I know what he is trying to do, but I hesitate to say I agree with it. He wants to get to know the killer´s mind, he says. I just wonder why we are spending so much time trying to get to know someone whose nature produces nothing but death, and the people, good people around us, we scarcely give them the time of day.

In any case, Steve came by before we were done, and we had to hurry down the scaffolding so that the police cavalry wouldn´t see us. In this commotion, we still managed to preserve most of the evidence we had collected.

I went home and wanted to cry, but couldn´t. I tried praying for the little boy, but did not know what to say. Dear little boy, I am sorry you were murdered, but I am sure you are in a better place, and I am sorry that I did not catch your killer? I wonder if one can lose the ability to feel from too much pain.

 

**_May 20th, 1894_ **

Dear Diary,

This is a disaster! John has really outdone himself with his carelessness this time. I just had a telephone call with Laszlo Kreizler, wherein he informed me that the night the boy´s body was found on top of that water tank, the police, in fact, did find a clue: A sketching notebook! John still sketches the crime scenes for us as the cameras are sometimes not able to show finer details and the full picture. But that notebook, now – according to the police at least – may only belong to the deranged murderer who likes to sketch his crimes and who, in his haste, forgot the artwork near his victim.

It is only heavenly luck that allowed commissioner Roosevelt to get his hands on it first and confiscate it. He agreed to have it discarded as evidence, but instructed me I must come to the police station quickly and quietly (it is now forty-five minutes past midnight), collect it and return it to John. Should anyone see it, we´d all be behind bars in no time.

Dear Diary, what in the world did I get myself into?

 

*******************************************************************************

 

 

Sara entered the police station around 1:15 am, using the spare key commissioner Roosevelt had given her for emergencies. She made her way to his desk, and discovered the notebook in one of the locked drawers. Just as she was about to leave, however, a faint light coming from one of the back offices caught her attention.

She froze to the spot, realizing that they had inevitably heard her.

Turning into the hallway, she was faced with a familiar voice.

´´Hello? Who´s there? ´´

´´Marcus? ´´ she called out. ´´What on Earth are you doing there? An assignment from Kreizler? ´´

She made her way to the desk he was sitting at, only to be met with a formidable sight. The entire room was in disarray. Piles of paper, case files, evidence bags, his own notes, magnifying glasses and three lanterns, their oil drawing its last breath, covered every visible part of the desk. Marcus stood there, even more disheveled than his working station. ´´What happened here? ´´ He hesitated to answer, not knowing what to say. Sara´s gaze fell on his auburn curls, uncombed and messy and face which glistened with sweat and bore an unhealthily pale hue, save for the dark blue circles under his eyes. He looked ill, even his breathing seemed labored.

´´I-I can´t sleep, ´´ he said. ´´I haven´t been able to since we found that boy on the water thank. We´ve f-failed, Sara. We failed, and he´s still free out in these streets and he´s going t-to kill again - ´´ he stuttered, eyes glistening. Suddenly, she felt uncontrollable anger rise in her chest.

´´All of you! You don’t want a female detective helping you, you want a babysitter! Kreizler is working himself to death, John with his drinking and smoking like a chimney and you… ´´ she paused, as he let out a shaky breath and shook his head. She put her hand up to his forehead to feel for a fever. The clammy skin felt cool against hers.

´´Come here. Sit down. ´´ Marcus obliged. She watched him lower his heavy form onto the chair. Suddenly, she noticed Marcus looked somehow round and heavy all over. He let out a shaky breath massaging his temples, unaware of the fact that Sara was taking in the way his doughy belly rested on top of his thick thighs. He looked shifty and uncomfortable in his clothes, their seams stretched to their limits trying to contain his rolls. A look at his face reveled he was sweaty. He looked positively distressed.

´´You say you haven´t slept… You need to recover your strength. Let me get you something to eat and then - ´´

´´N-no… I- I can´t eat anything now. ´´ he muttered refusing to meet her gaze.

´´But look at you, you´re exhausted´´ she protested.

Marcus turned and focused on her with his icy – blue eyes. He had a resigned, expressionless look on his face. ´´Sara… I - ´´ he cut off and sighed.

´´Please, Marcus… I want to help you. ´´ crouching next to the chair she took his hand gently. ´´I understand, I´m going through the same thing… Please tell me what you´re doing here. ´´

He shifted uncomfortably, breathing still labored, and proceeded: ´´ I- I came to investigate further, to find any connections to the other cases after not being able to sleep at home. I brought some food, too. I´ve… I´ve pretty much been working and eating for six hours straight. I-I feel like I´m going to burst. I… I didn´t think anybody would come in at this hour… And I hate you saw me like this. ´´ he choked out.

Sara felt her heart begin to race. Had he really been just eating and sitting here?

´´Marcus, this is not good, what you´re doing. Let me – let me help you. ´´ she approached and unbuttoned the first button on his collar – his round, prominent double chin was being constrained by it. ´´Wow, you really stuffed yourself, didn´t you? ´´ she muttered reaching out towards his midriff without thinking, but he flinched visibly and caught her hand mid-air.

´´No… What are you doing? ´´ 

The question was left hanging in the air. He stared at her, eyes tired but sharp, face flushed. 

´´Marcus, I want to help you feel better. You´re in distress, exhausted and well… You said it yourself, bursting out of your clothes... I want to make it easier on you! ´´

Marcus eyed her suspiciously. ´´I know what this is for you. Some kind of a freakshow. See how fat the fat boy really is. ´´

She snatched her hand away and stood up, purposefully stomping her high – heeled feet. ´´Is that really what you think? After - ´´ she shook her head and headed towards the door.

´´Sara! I… ´´ He caught up with her in two strides of his long legs and immediately had to adjust his overly snug trousers. Standing there, pulling at his tight clothes and panting even from the smallest exertion, sweaty and overfed, Marcus had to bare it all in front of her.

´´That´s not what I really think. It´s… It´s what I´m afraid of. ´´ he was determined to keep staring at his feet – well, in reality, his soft, protruding muffin top, as he did not really see his feet when looking down, before he felt a small, cool hand against his cheek.

´´I know, Marcus. I know that´s what you´re afraid of. But I want you to know that you don´t have to do this. You don´t have to hide from me. ´´ she took both of his hands in hers and he squeezed them back. ´´I don´t think you´re a freak. And, no, I don´t think you´re weak for blaming yourself for what happened, and dealing with it by overeating – because I know that´s what you´re thinking, am I right? ´´ he grinned despite himself. ´´You´re frighteningly right, yes. ´´

´´There´s nothing wrong with you. I´m here for you. I just wish you´d trust me. ´´

´´I do trust you… ´´

´´Then… ´´ Sara reached out once again and went straight for the buttons of his petticoat. Out of habit, he sucked in as much as he could, but did not pull back. ´´You´ll agree that this is too tight… You can barely breathe. ´´ She stated, sliding the constricting fabric off of his shoulders. He was left standing in nothing but his thin white button-down shirt. It clung to every roll and curve, showcasing his thick love handles and soft, bulging chest. Marcus looked down at Sara, his large blue eyes expectant, but trusting.

´´Is that better? ´´

He nodded with his signature lip – twisted smirk. ´´I don´t know what you´re planning to do with me, but maybe I should sit down. You can barely reach me. ´´

´´Are you calling me short? ´´ Sara scoffed, glad to see him at ease.

´´Indeed I am. ´´ Flashing a grin he made his way to the sofa in the commissioner´s office and they both made themselves comfortable on it.

´´So… I thought I´d… I mean, if that´s alright with you… I´ll try to ease some of the pressure. So you can digest better… ´´ Sara stammered. Bracing herself for the contact, she placed a hand on his largest belly roll which dangerously strained the buttons of his shirt. Marcus inhaled sharply at the touch.

´´ Should I stop? ´´

´´No, it – it might, um… Help. ´´

The darkened police station as their hideout, they sat there for several moments in silence, her hand circling around his belly button, which was mercilessly squeezed by the tight trousers. Marcus shifted a little to get a better look at her.

´´Why are you wasting your time with me? ´´ he asked with a gentle smile.

Sara rolled her eyes. ´´Well… When another intelligent, handsome, talented young man with a sense of humor and in the same profession as I comes along, I´ll relieve you of your duty as my friend and colleague. You people don´t fall from the sky, you know. ´´

They both burst out laughing simultaneously. ´´You and your little disguised compliments! ´´ He exclaimed. The laughter made Marcus´ belly jiggle under Sara´s hand. Without thinking, she gently wrapped her fingers around a roll. He let out a shaky sigh and leaned against the back of the couch. Eventually, he´d mustered up the courage to slide an arm around her shoulders as she kept massaging the sensitive belly. Both suppressed their disbelief at what was happening. She´d called him a friend and colleague – enough for Marcus not to dare do anything further, besides promise her he´d get some sleep later.They stayed like that until the first rays of sunshine threatened to bring the constables back to the police station.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry for the long delay, this was tough to write. It´s a lot smuttier than I thought it would be XD Enjoy :)

 

_Marcus Isaacson´s Journal_

_June 15 th, 1894_

The investigation is tediously but surely. I would say Lucius and I are doing most of the behind – the – scenes work. Dr. Kreizler and John Moore have their hands full trying to keep JP Morgan and the police department out of meddling in our business.

Lucius says people are gossiping and talking about having seen me with Sara. I replied he´s seen often with her too, but he says they were never alone and that this was improper. What do you expect of her, he asks. I pretend to be offended at the question, but the truth is I do not know myself. My brother believes she is toying with me. Women know desperation, he says. I would be offended if I did not know it myself. Lucius says I need self-control. That without it, men are no different than beasts. I told him I guess I fall somewhere between the two.

 

_June 30 th 1894_

In every endeavor, there comes a time of hardship and doubt. However, one does not expect it to come in the form of someone losing their life at the hand of the police. We all attended the funeral of Mary, Dr. Kreizler´s maid, our hearts heavy with guilt. Kreizler remained silent all the way through. I fear for Sara. I must pay her a visit these days.

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

´´Marcus! What are you doing here? ´´ Sara frowned at the tall figure at her doorway several evenings later. Marcus noticed she looked tired, but the fatigue in her eyes was different – more like resignation. Separated by the door, they seemed to both be wondering the same thing. Was she next? Or one of their other colleagues? Immediately, she instructed him to go away, adding something about the neighbors seeing him there, causing them to talk even more than they do now.

´´I´ll yell if you don’t let me in. ´´ He stated, deadpan. ´´I´ll let them all know - ´´

´´What? ´´ she hissed. ´´What are you going to say? ´´ her eyes flashed.

´´Oh… ´´ Marcus stammered and turned to leave, tripping over his feet in the process.

´´What are you –´´ without thinking, Sara ran out and grabbed Marcus´ hand, dragging him roughly up the steps and inside, slamming the door shut behind them. They were standing face to face in the darkened hallway. Suddenly, Marcus´ bewildered laughter echoed around them.

´´I thought you wanted me to leave? ´´ he breathed.

´´Marcus… ´´ she sighed. ´´How can you be like this? Mary is - ´´

´´I know! I know… But it´s that kind of a night. You know… Who knows how much time we have… Let me stay in the guest room. I´ll feel better that way, knowing you´re not alone. ´´

She nodded grimly and they made their way to the living room. It was a beautiful and airy room, slowly enveloping in darkness of the dying day. Marcus looked about and frowned slightly at the cinders in the fireplace.

´´Where is your maid? ´´ he asked, crouching down to light a fire.

´´I… I dismissed her indefinitely. She´s not safe with me as long as this is going on, you´ll agree. ´´

´´Unfortunately, you´re right. ´´ he muttered, striking a match.

Soon, the gentle light of the fire spread across the living room, crackling comfortingly and bathing everything in a pleasant glow.

Still in their outside clothes, they both sat down on the couch facing an immense window and stared ahead at the darkening street without saying a word. Mary was gone and she wasn´t coming back. Sara repeated the line from a book she´d read once a long time ago: ´´Anything can happen to anyone. It is best to be prepared. ´´ suddenly, she felt a rush of urgency and panic. Tears began to prickle the corners of her eyes, and before Marcus could react, she was on her feet.

´´I… I´ve got to get out of this – this medieval torture device! It´s suffocating me! ´´ she breathed and began struggling with the lacings of her corset. The bodice was far from tight, it fit perfectly, but its firm and restricting nature was more than she could handle at that moment – she wanted nothing more than to curl into herself and lie down, to experience even a moment of peace. Her cold fingers wrestled with the merciless dry lace, only tightening the knots instead of loosening them.

´´Sara, hey… Wait a second… ´´ Marcus began timidly, unsure how to react to the fact that she was undressing in front of him. The words fell on deaf ears. Sara frowned deeply and suppressed a sob.

´´SARA! ´´ the tone of his voice startled them both. He stood up, towering over her, and grabbed her shoulders. There was something comforting about his appearance as he looked down at her. The large blue eyes, full of concern, the soft double chin and full, sensual lips. She let herself relax in his grasp and he gently guided her to turn around. The sensation of his large, strong hands fiddling with the dainty corset overwhelmed her, but she kept still. Finally, Marcus managed to pry open the stiff bodice and slid it off her waist.

Sara turned to face him, standing in nothing but the sheer undergarments. Marcus noticed, once again how fragile the woman was under her impeccable clothes.

´´ Better? ´´ he smiled meekly.

´´Much better, thank you. I´m sorry… I don´t know what came over me. The stress is finally getting to me, I believe. ´´

´´I understand. May I? ´´ he asked and brought his hand up to her hairpin. With one swift motion, the long, wheat-colored silky strands of hair enveloped Sara´s shoulders and reached her slender waist.

´´Now you´ve got me disheveled… Just how I´m feeling inside. ´´ she sighed.

He chuckled. Slowly, he extended his arms inviting her for a hug. She looked at him incredulously.

´´Let someone else be strong for a change, Sara. I promise, I won´t tell. ´´ he added with a smirk.

Reluctantly, she approached and allowed him to put his arms around her. Sara almost got lost in the feeling. He was incredibly tall and wide. Her small frame made contact with the warmth of his round midriff and she let out an involuntary sigh of relief. Marcus´ fingers began roaming through her blonde waves and she rested her head against his soft chest. She could hear his heart clearly. The height difference meant that she could not put her arms around his neck comfortably, so she rested them on his thick waist. It was as soft and pliant as she remembered it from the night they shared at the police station. Her hand slid along his plush love handle, hanging over his belt and straining his shirt. He squirmed a little at that.

´´Is everything alright? ´´ she asked innocently.

´´As much as it can be in this situation… ´´ came the quiet reply. ´´I just… Wish things were different. Also, most of the time I just find myself wishing to know what is going through your head. ´´ he rested his chin on top of her head, as Sara laughed lightly.

´´Every man wants to know what women are thinking, Marcus. But, I am enjoying this, if that is what you are wondering. ´´

´´Not in the way I am enjoying it, I am sure. ´´

Sara looked up. ´´What do you mean by that? ´´

He bit his lip. ´´I do wish I was different sometimes. That the situation was… If I was richer… Better looking, perhaps then… ´´

´´Perhaps then what? ´´ she cut him off. ´´You are well off Marcus, you´re working for Kreizler and John. Besides, you know I do not care about social standing. If I did I´d be married by now. ´´

Marcus swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to meet her gaze. He was dancing around the issue and she knew it.

´´And have these times I called you handsome gone unnoticed? I shouldn´t think so. ´´ she gazed at him intently.

He let out a shaky breath and cleared his throat, never letting her out of his arms.

´´S-Sara… Would you like – what I mean is… ´´ his own voice came out shaky and high pitched. ´´May I kiss you? I-if you, I mean… ´´ he stuttered until he saw her nod slowly.

Placing a hand on her neck gently, as if he were afraid of breaking her, Marcus leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers. They were dry and warm and he shivered as she caressed his lips with her own. A slip of his tongue made her gasp a little and he laughed into the kiss.

Sara´s mind felt hazy. Her hands began roaming his plump body and finally, she could not resist squeezing the ample rolls of fat on his back.

It was as if a lightning strike hit between them. Marcus inhaled sharply and pulled back, face flushed scarlet. He was panting lightly.

´´Marcus, what - ´´

But her words were met with a silent head shake.

´´I… I think I should go. ´´ he muttered under his breath.

´´Go?! ´´ Sara exclaimed, beginning to realize this was more confusion than she could take. ´´If you wish. But know that I have no idea what I did wrong. ´´

He let out a humorless laugh. ´´Wrong… You did nothing wrong. I am wrong. For you. ´´

´´God forbid you let me decide that. ´´ came the sarcastic retort. ´´Please. Let´s have a seat, explain it to me. I want to know. ´´

Soon they were both back on the couch, an awkward few inches between them. Sara never bothered to put clothes on, as she sat up rigidly and stared expectantly and Marcus´ still flushed face.

´´That man… The killer we´re looking for. He´s got different… Urges in sexual matters than most people. I´m… I´m afraid I´m a similar way. ´´ His voice was barely above a whisper, but still caused Sara to frown deeply.

´´I- I believe that… You´d begin a relationship with me… But expect me to change… In some ways. ´´

´´What ways? ´´ she asked, voice full of thorns.

´´What I mean is I… I used to be much… Thinner. And I´m not any more. And I thought I wanted to be again, but…´´

´´You like it. ´´ she stated. ´´This cannot be what you´re worried about. ´´

´´I am. ´´ he shifted nervously. ´´Who could want me like this? ´´

´´I don´t know. I haven´t seen you completely exposed yet. Take off your clothes. ´´ she commanded, her face unreadable in the weak light of the fire.

´´W-what? ´´

´´You say you like being fat. Why are you embarrassed? ´´ she slid closer ´´Are you afraid that I would do this? ´´ she quizzed, placing a hand on his belly and giving it a firm squeeze which made him jump. ´´… Because we´ve already done that… And… Judging by this… ´´ she continued, eyeing his growing erection, ´´You like it. ´´

He gazed at her in utter bewilderment, but his hands mechanically wondered off to his buttons and began undoing them. ´´My- my undershirt too? ´´ she nodded.

Soon, he was sitting there in nothing but his tight trousers, their waistband buried deep within his rolls. Suddenly, he became very conscious of his love handles and soft chest, in addition to fighting the urge to use something to conceal his overly round belly.

´´I-it´s not attractive, b-but it just… Just feels… ´´

´´How much do you weigh? ´´ she whispered, drawing even closer and experimentally touching his chest.

´´I -um… two… 270 pounds. ´´

´´Hm… I´d never have thought… You´re very tall… Now if we could have you reach 300lbs, then perhaps we could really - ´´ Marcus gasped and turned to look at the smirking face of his merciless tease.

´´You! You have no idea what you´ve done, little girl. ´´ breathed Marcus, knowing that he words would rile her up. Sara tried to pull away at the jab, but was trapped by his large hand swiftly wrapping itself in her hair. He pulled her into a rough kiss, as she flung her arms as far around him as she could.

´´This is what you wanted isn´t it? ´´

´´Maybe… ´´ she whispered lazily, ´´But as I said… You´re not there yet, detective sergeant. ´´ she patted his rear. ´´This ass needs to plump up some more and then we´ll see… Or maybe a few more pounds here… ´´ she gave his side roll a light shake.

Marcus´ mind went blank with lust. He was barely aware of slamming her shoulders against the couch and her laughter ringing out across the room as she wrapped her legs around his still clothed waist.

He frantically unbuttoned his trousers and slid them off. Sara went quiet at the sight of his enlarged, throbbing cock. ´´It – it is my first time you know… ´´ she said almost apologetically.

He offered an amused smile and pressed a kiss against her forehead. ´´I know… I am sorry I got carried away… We´ll go slow, I promise. ´´

He positioned himself between her legs and slowly pressed his long fingers against her clit. She gasped but allowed him to continue. Her small hands clutched his thick forearm as if for security. Marcus leaned in and kept laying small kisses along her cheeks and jaw.

´´Lay on top of me… ´´ she pleaded, pulling him closer.

´´I´ll – I´ll crush you Sara… I´m just very, very big… ´´ he blushed slightly.

´´Good. I want to feel you. ´´

As he lowered his hefty belly against her small frame, Sara moaned and buried her hands deep under his dark curls. Slowly and carefully, he began to enter. It was a slow process, somewhat painful, but Sara being visibly aroused helped the situation immensely.

When he managed to enter, fully he spun her upwards, positioning her in his lap. Merely straddling his thick thighs and well-padded hips almost made her come on the spot. Marcus panted and pulled her closer, until his belly was fully positioned on top of her legs, quivering and jiggling with every thrust. He looked completely decadent, fat and exposed his, double chin and belly glistening in sweat, all the while pleasing Sara in ways she never thought possible.

´´Marcus… ´´ she called out breathlessly, ´´ just a little more, chubby, I´m so close! ´´

Marcus yelled out as her remark sent him over the edge. They did not know how long they sat motionless, breathing in unison, his head leaning against her breasts and she, twirling her fingers around his locks. That night they spent together in her bed, where none of the evils from the outside world could not reach them.


End file.
